


Cold Night, Warm Bed

by radioqueen



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: AU where Damien is a cat shifter, Anal Fingering, Dubious Consent, F/M, Oral Sex, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 16:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioqueen/pseuds/radioqueen
Summary: Joan is a high school student. Damien is Mark's new pet cat. (Or is he?)





	Cold Night, Warm Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jasminetea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasminetea/gifts).



“We’re not keeping him.” Joan eyed the grumpy tomcat’s scarred ear.

“Why not?” Mark pouted, cuddling the cat to his face.

“There’s no way Mom and Dad will let us,” Joan said. “Besides, cats are expensive. And this one looks feral. We’d have to give him a bath and get him fixed.”

The cat gave a low growl at that, though it might have been from Mark cuddling him. Either way, Joan felt even more uneasy about the stray.

“Just for tonight, Joanie,” Mark pleaded. “We’ll keep him in my room. Mom and Dad will never know.”

“If he’s not fixed, there’s a good chance he’ll spray,” Joan said. “Are you prepared for your room to smell like cat pee until the end of time?”

“It’s freezing cold out!” Mark countered. “Are you prepared to have a dead, frozen cat on your conscience? Because I’m not.”

He gave her his best starving-kennel-puppy expression. The cat somehow mirrored Mark’s face, tilting its head and widening its big green eyes. Joan sighed in defeat. She really _did_ want to let the cat stay inside, for reasons even she didn’t fully understand.

“Just for tonight,” she said. “Then we’re building a cat shelter for it.”

Mark hugged her gingerly, and the cat licked her neck. Joan shivered. She wasn’t used to being touched much, even from Mark.

“I think he’s basically still a kitten,” Mark said when he pulled away. “Look how skinny he is. Can we feed him some tuna?”

“No,” Joan said. “Absolutely not. Just a warm house for the night. That’s all.”

 

One tin of tuna later, the cat was sleeping on the warm pile of freshly discarded laundry while Mark and Joan brushed their teeth in their pajamas. Mr. and Mrs. Bryant were spending the night at a conference, so Joan reluctantly agreed to let Mark keep his bedroom door open for warmth. The air didn’t circulate well in his room, and even with a cat to contain, Joan didn’t like him sleeping with the door closed, and a space heater would be way too dangerous.

“G’night, Joanie.” Mark kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Joan said. “Wake me up if the cat… scratches you or anything.”

Mark laughed. “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”

Joan crawled into her cold bed, amazed that flannel could be so chilly. She thought about Mark, all cuddled up in his pajamas with the cat. She was glad they had each other to keep warm. She thought about climbing into Mark’s bed with him, but he still had a twin bed, and she had the full size one, and she would feel too awkward calling Mark to come get in her bed. So she just sighed and scissored her feet in the bed until her toes thawed a little.

She woke with a start some time later, only to groan and pull the blankets up to her nose. The stupid cat was on her bed, like a warm, purring shadow. It pawed at her shoulder like it was kneading a lump of dough, stopping periodically to headbutt her face and try to stick a paw under the warm blanket.

“Urgh.” Joan spat out cat hair. “Go away. Go warm up Mark’s bed. I don’t want you in here.”

“Harsh,” a voice said.

Joan froze, her heart pounding like a construction site. There was an intruder in the house—no, in her _room._ She couldn’t see anyone, but it was pretty dark. She needed to turn the light on, to call the police, but he already knew she was there—

“Aw, did I scare you?” The voice was smug, purring—No, not purring, that couldn’t be right.

“What—” Joan paused, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. She could have sworn it was right next to her ear.

“Figure it out yet?” The cat nuzzled Joan’s ear, and then he suddenly nipped at her earlobe.

Joan was too stunned to scream. She just lay there, staring at the black-on-black shadow rubbing against her face.

“Mind if I slip into something more comfortable?” The cat was shifting, growing, changing into something huge.

Joan closed her eyes, afraid to see a panther next to her. A small human hand pushed the hair out of her face.

“Aw, c’mon,” the voice said. “I don’t change into this form for just anyone. You should be honored. Impressed. Or at least slightly horny.”

Joan opened her eyes and saw a boy instead of a panther. A naked boy, at that, and one no taller than Mark.

“Who…” Joan swallowed. “Who are you? _What_ are you?”

“You can call me Damien,” he said. “And as for the what… just think of me as the little brother you never had.”

“I already have a little brother,” Joan said.

“Yeah, but not the kind who can turn into a cat. Or do this.” Damien pushed Joan’s top up and sucked on her nipple.

Joan barely restrained herself from moaning. She grasped a fistful of Damien’s hair to push him away, but instead she found herself pulling him closer. Damien licked and sucked and even lightly bit Joan’s other nipple, and when he stuck his hand down her underwear, she was ashamed by how wet she was.

“Stop,” she said, unconvincingly.

“Yeah, yeah. Your mouth says stop.” Damien pressed his wet fingers to her lips. “But your body says ‘Unf, don’t stop, Damien, please keep going.” When she didn’t respond, he tried to nudge his fingers into her mouth. “You got my fingers all messy. Be a doll and clean them for me, would you?”

Joan stuck out her tongue and tasted his fingers. It wasn’t a bad taste—after all, she did shower regularly. But she’d never deliberately tasted herself, and it had never seemed hot to her until this very moment, with Damien making her. He slid his hand back down her stomach and across her curly hair again, and this time his fingers found their way inside her. And just as surprisingly, she was spreading her legs wider for him, bucking her hips in search of his palm against her clit. He fingered her with gentle, wiggling thrusts.

“Wow, you really want it, huh?” Damien rubbed his erection against the back of her hand.

“Honestly, I just want to go back to bed,” Joan said, but her body had other ideas. She found herself pulling back the blankets for Damien, who immediately crawled in and pressed his nose to her underwear.

“Mmmm. I bet you wish I’d lick you, huh?” Damien’s voice was muffled under the blanket.

“No,” Joan said, even less convincingly than before.

“Well, because I’m such a generous boy, I’m going to make your dreams come true.” Damien pull her panties down her legs.

Joan helped him, although she wasn’t sure why. “Wait. I want to know more about the cat thing. Were you born a cat, or did you realize you could transform into one later—”

“There’ll be time for that later.” Damien shushed her with a long lick along her slit. “I want to hurry and get you off before baby brother notices I’m gone and comes looking for me.”

Joan had to cover her mouth with her comforter to muffle her moan. Damien licked every bit of her wetness up and then shifted so he was lying on top of her, his butt in her face. With her nightgown still pushed up, his cock fit in the smooth space between her breasts. Joan found herself enticed by his smooth bottom, and before she fully realized what she was doing, she was spanking it. He wiggled, and Joan almost laughed as she realized what a cat-like thing it was for him to stick his butt in her face like that.

“I take it back,” she murmured. “You were definitely born a cat.”

She spanked him a few more times and then licked her finger and prodded it into his little round hole. Damien gasped under the blanket, and she used her other hand to push him back between her legs.

It only took a few moments of that before Damien was mewling under the blankets and grinding between her cleavage, but Joan didn’t let up. She fingered his tight bottom until he coated her stomach with heat, and that was when the full novelty and hotness of her situation finally struck her. She came immediately, thrashing under her blankets while trying to keep quietly.

Damien emerged a moment later, his hair standing straight up and a sleepy expression on his face.

“I’ll just sleep in here, if that’s all right with you,” he said.

Joan just shrugged, too spent from her orgasm to argue. Damien cuddled up against her and rested his face between her shoulder and her neck, his arm draped over her breasts.

 

“Joanie? Hey, Joanie! Have you seen—aww, there he is. He must have decided he wanted to sleep with you instead.”

Joan’s eyes flew open, prepared to have to cover herself and explain an awkward situation to Mark. But instead she found herself perfectly covered by her nightgown and duvet, with no sign of the boy from the night before. Instead, a little black cat was stretched across her chest, purring.

“Ha, I knew he liked you!” Mark said triumphantly. “Should I make oatmeal for breakfast?”

“What?” Joan asked, then, “Uh, yes, sure.”

Mark gave the cat a scratch behind the ears and then trotted off to make breakfast. Joan pushed the cat off her chest and sat up.

“Well?” she asked. “Was that all a dream?”

The cat winked at her and hopped to the floor, following Mark. Joan checked under her nightgown and grimaced.

No, it had definitely not been a dream, she decided. Her first order of business was a shower, and then she’d figure out what the hell to do with that _thing_ after some oatmeal.


End file.
